


Sleepless Nights in Nepal

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The dreams are about one friend in particular. I feel guilty. And weak, perhaps, for not being able to control my mind when I'm asleep. The dreams happen... quite often, and now I dread going to sleep and even being around the friend in question."</p><p>Pharah's having unusual nightmares in the midst of a mission and an equally sleepless Mercy tries to get her to open up. (Also, mid-sex name puns.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless Nights in Nepal

Pharah had arrived at Nepal just a few hours ago on one of her first missions since Overwatch had, technically speaking, "regrouped." (Not that she felt like she was truly a part of it, having been absent during its glory days.) It was, however, one of the smaller headquarters, intended as a short-term building for strategizing rather than a long-term lodging facility. As such, rooms were dismal in number and beds even more so. Pharah had been posted here with a small unit after reports of several Talon attacks. It seemed the terrorist group had moved on shortly after Overwatch's arrival, but they still needed to maintain threat surveillance for a few weeks.

All things considered, it was a relatively simple task compared to her sleeping situation. She had been paired with Mercy to share a room—and by extent, a bed—but she felt it was much too small for the both of them. And, well... for other reasons she preferred not to linger on.

"For the last time, you're not sleeping on the floor," said Mercy with an exasperated sigh, rubbing her temples. "Wearing that heavy armor is going to be twice as painful with a stiff back."

"You say that as though that old mattress is any softer than the floor."

Well. Mercy couldn't argue with that.

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, sleep did not come well to Mercy. It rarely did these days. She felt guilty for not insisting that Pharah join her in bed, given the Egyptian's uncomfortable shifting on the floor. She had made a makeshift sleeping bag out of pillows and a worn-out blanket, but it hardly looked inviting. Mercy slid closer to the edge of her bed to get a better look at the Egyptian. It was almost like looking at a ghost of Ana Amari in how Mercy had imagined her in her youth, before she had personally made her acquaintance. She felt somewhat guilty for the comparison; after all, Pharah's rocky relationship with her mother was no secret. And besides, given their age difference, Mercy had always seen Ana as a distant heroic figure to be put on the pedestal of her memories. Pharah was different—more human, more vulnerable.

Sleep, evidently, did not come well to Pharah either. She had tossed and turned for hours, mumbling to herself things Mercy couldn't quite make out. She would've found the sleep talk endearing if it didn't come at the cost of a peaceful night's sleep.

"Angela..."

The blonde's name came in the form of a muffled groan from the restless figure on the floor. Mercy's curiosity was piqued, to say the least, and she was definitely wide awake now. The Egyptian's breathing became somewhat heavier as Mercy's name slipped through her lips yet again. Mercy suddenly felt like somewhat of a voyeur, realizing the peculiarity in watching her friend—were they even friends?, she wondered—shuffle in her sleep.

Moments after she turned away in a vain attempt to get some rest, she was jolted up by the sound of Pharah's voice, this time with much more clarity.

"Are you awake?"

"Mhm. I'm guessing you can't sleep either?"

Beads of sweat dripped down Pharah's neck as her heart began to slow down to a normal rhythm.

"Nightmares," she said, somewhat curtly. "... again."

A heavy silence filled the room.

"Want to talk about it?"

 

* * *

 

As the pair entered the kitchen, Mercy reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey carefully hidden in the pantry. Pharah wondered to herself how long it had been there and how many late night drinking sessions Mercy had succumbed to in the past, but pushed away the train of thought, ashamed of her own judgments. Mercy, however, seemed to piece together the thought from a single glance at the Egyptian.

"Don't worry," she said with a soft smile, pouring them both drinks. "This has been here for a while—well, since the old days. I usually prefer wine for myself. Torbjörn and Reinhardt were always the ones who liked the harder stuff."

She slid one of the glasses over to Pharah.

"Drink up. Doctor's orders."

Pharah took a sip and had to hold back her disgust. She could usually handle liquor, but this was definitely bottom shelf. Well, as long as it got the job done, she supposed...

"So, the nightmares are back?" asked Mercy, as she lazily stretched her arms back and leaned against the counter.

"I'm not exactly having nightmares," Pharah said quietly. "Well, not anymore than usual."

Angela's heart sunk a little at the aside. Of course, she suffered from nightmares as well—it came with the territory when you joined Overwatch—but she always felt a twang of guilt when anyone talked about their own. As though she could've done better on the battlefield; as though she could have reached someone before they received any serious trauma; as though she could have somehow stopped Pharah from hurting as much as she did.

Pharah stared intently at the floor and downed another drink for courage. She could almost feel Mercy's concerned gaze piercing through her, but this conversation wasn't going to go anywhere if Pharah couldn't bring herself to lower her inhibitions.

"They're just... um, unsettling dreams." Pharah slurred, obviously a bit tipsy by now. "... suggestive dreams, of... well... dreams of a..."—a pause—".... a sexual manner, so to speak... It's concerning."

Mercy tried to suppress her laughter, but it nonetheless crawled its way out of her lips and echoed across the kitchen. It was the sort of unique laugh that was doubtlessly fueled by alcohol, resembling a schoolgirl's gigglefit more than a grown woman's amusement. Pharah furrowed her brows and looked away with a face of instant regret.

"Angela! If you're going to be that way, I'm going back to bed."

"I'm sorry!" the blonde insisted, covering her mouth. "I just didn't expect that from you. Really, go on! Dreams like that are perfectly normal—honestly, I'm surprised this is a new occurrence for you. Why is it that concerning?"

With obvious reluctance, Pharah continued.

"The dreams are about one friend in particular. I feel guilty. And weak, perhaps, for not being able to control my mind when I'm asleep. The dreams happen... quite often, and now I dread going to sleep and even being around the friend in question."

Mercy tapped her nails against her glass, lost in thought. Pharah couldn't read the expression on her face. Her heart felt like it was beating louder and louder with every second of silence between them.

"Ah, so you consider me a friend? That's nice to hear; you've always been so formal with me, so I assumed things were strictly professional."

Pharah's face went red and burned even harder when she realized that her flushed face gave away her guilt.

"W-what?!" she stammered, instinctively crossing her arms. "Dr. Ziegler, I didn't... I wasn't... why do you think it was about you?! Don't be absurd!"

Mercy pouted, feeling a bit slighted at the notion that someone wanting her was _absurd_. For a moment, she debated changing the subject and allowing Pharah to save face, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. As awkward as this could get, it couldn't be any more awkward than allowing the discomfort between her and Pharah to grow.

"You talk in your sleep, you know." Mercy took a sip of whiskey, swallowing hard as it burnt against the back of her throat. "Though I must say, I like my name on your lips..."

She put her drink down on the counter and lightly placed her hand on Pharah's cheek, forcing the Egyptian to meet her gaze.

"But there are other things I'd prefer on them," she said softly, leaning in for a kiss. It was stilted and awkward, with Pharah's body stiffening from the unexpected contact. Mercy pulled away, mentally kicking herself for making a move in the first place. It was obvious that the other woman was uncomfortable, despite any of her hidden feelings.

"I'm sorry. That... ah, that was the whiskey, maybe. It was inappropriate of me and I..." But before she could finish, Pharah's lips were back on hers—this time, with more confidence. For Pharah, it was a move of pure adrenaline. Her body acted before her mind could even process the decision. Her thoughts suddenly became clouded with the scent of lavender on Mercy's skin and the bitter taste of whiskey on her lips.

Pharah's breath came in pants as the blonde's hands begin to wander—first with caution, as she glanced at Pharah's face for any signs of hesitance. While her ragged breathing almost seemed to speak for itself, she was visibly shaking.

"Should we stop?" asked Mercy, pulling herself away from the younger woman. Pharah looked ashamed, averting her gaze as she gathered her bearings.

"No! Don't stop, please. I'm just... nervous." She looked unsure. "No, not nervous. Scared."

That certainly wasn't the answer Mercy had expected.

"Of what?"

"Of... this? Of you, maybe."

A barely audible "oh" escaped from Mercy's lips. Unsure of how to proceed, she rested her forehead against the Egyptian's own and sighed softly.

"Feelings are a liability on the battlefield. They're dangerous and I...." Pharah stopped, her voice cracking. "I'm not sure if I can handle that."

Mercy put her finger against Pharah's lips.

"Shush," she whispered. "We're not on the battlefield right now."

 

* * *

 

Mercy's body felt flushed and she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or from Pharah's thighs straddled over her own. Well, this certainly escalated quickly. Pharah leaned down to graze her lips against the blonde's neck. Mercy's eyes shut as she sighed contently, her hips arching upward and grinding against Pharah's groin to relieve some of the tension building up between her legs. She couldn't help but be turned on by the thought of _this_ having occupied Pharah's dreams (and likely much more) for the past few weeks. She almost laughed to herself, knowing how eager Pharah must have been to re-enact her fantasy.

Pharah's lips brushed against hers and Mercy grabbed the back of the other woman's neck, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss. Unlike the softness of their first kiss in the kitchen, these were messy and wet, wanting and heavy, and Pharah's desire had evidently overtaken her nerves. Curious of the other woman's limits, she bit Pharah's lower lip—hard, but not enough to draw blood. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

Pharah yipped at the sudden pain. "Isn't the Hippocratic Oath supposed to keep you from hurting your patients...?"

"And sleeping with them, I'd imagine. Are you one of my patients now?" Mercy teased, her tongue smoothing over the bite mark.

"Well, it does seem as though I'm at your mercy."

...

That was certainly the first time anyone had made a pun about her name with their hand finding its way between her legs. She laughed into the crook of Pharah's neck, grateful that the air between them had lightened since the tail end of their conversation in the kitchen.

"That's not... FAIR-uh," said Mercy, mischievously grazing her teeth against the Egyptian's neck in retaliation. "You can't bring puns into the bedroom."

Pharah smirked. "Then maybe we should both talk less," she said as she pushed Angela into a hard kiss, the blonde's laughter melting into Pharah's mouth. Her head felt too hazy to wonder if this was okay to do with both of them drunk—if they'd wake up tomorrow with hangovers and regrets—but the thought was suddenly smothered out by the sensation of Pharah's fingers gliding in circles against the wet cotton of her underwear. She flossed the fabric between her clit and the teasing became unbearable. She lightly smacked Pharah's hand aside and dragged her underwear down to her ankles, not bothering to fully remove it.

"Fuck," she murmured, her own hands fumbling against Pharah's back in search for the clasps of her bra. She wondered if she had had too much to drink earlier; surely, if she could get her medical license, she could figure out how to get... this _stupid_... bra off. Her fingers finally found the plastic clasps... and Pharah's fingers found something else.  _Oh._

She hungrily thrusted her hips into Pharah's fingers as they slipped inside her, desperate to satiate the desire swelling in her crotch. She tugged off Pharah's now-loosened bra and feverishly traced her tongue around her nipples. They were a bit of a mismatched pair, with Pharah topless and Mercy bottomless.

Pharah suddenly grabbed Mercy's legs and put them over her shoulders, finally pulling off the blonde's underwear. She repositioned herself towards the edge of the bed and between Mercy's legs. She pressed her tongue against Mercy's already slick and swollen clit, causing Mercy to cry out in pleasure. Pharah felt her cheeks redden at the cry, wondering just how thin the walls were and if they were keeping anyone else awake. She thrusted three fingers back inside Mercy as she sucked what felt like every inch of her, encouraged by Mercy's increasingly loud moans. Finally, she felt Mercy spasm around her fingers. She lapped up her now-drenched cunt, with Mercy breathing heavily and slowly and glistened in sweat, brushing her fingers through Pharah's hair.

Pharah leaned up to kiss her, about to make some sort of joke about sleepless nights, when Mercy flipped Pharah over with a smirk.

"My turn."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the tone is a bit uneven! I couldn't decide whether I wanted to write something fluffy or something PWP-y, so it ended up as a slightly awkward mix between the two. Hope you liked it anyway, though! :D


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